I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. Mr. " "I'v not failed," returned Jack, angrily; "but we've done too much. " "From Mr. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet.
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